


give yourself a try

by returnofthejedis



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: A+ for effort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Because he was, Canon Compliant, Comfort/Angst, Din Djarin is a soft boyfriend, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, M/M, Owen Lars Being a Jerk, Trauma, this is just a character study tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:08:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29724648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/returnofthejedis/pseuds/returnofthejedis
Summary: Din Djarin realizes that Luke isn’t okay, and he needs to let him know that it’s okay not to be okay.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Comments: 12
Kudos: 116





	give yourself a try

They had been together for almost three years, and yet, Luke Skywalker barely mentioned his early life. He had never been one to talk about it. Of course, Din Djarin had seen the clues first-hand. There was the social awkwardness and his clumsy use of words. There was his constrained mannerisms and his willingness to throw his life away for any who showed him kindness. There was Luke's bittersweet relationship with faucets and his reluctance ever to bathe. When Leia had first met Din, she had said that he should not expect Luke to take a candlelit bath anytime soon. Din had laughed but quickly realised that she had been serious. Luke didn't wash himself often. When he did, he opted for the briefest shower Din had seen anyone take. She had also warned him about Luke's tendency to overwork himself. He needed to have his mind occupied by something - by anything. He couldn't even relax on their birthday. She had told a story about how R2 needed some wires replacing around their twenty-fifth birthday. Luke had spent almost a week fixing his astromech. Once or twice, he had even fallen asleep with a hydrospanner in his hand. At their birthday meal itself, he would have been sat covered in oil, rust, and grease had Leia not tidied him up and forced Luke into his best clothes. Clothes that fit him perfectly, and yet he still complained about being too stiff and tight for him. The Mandalorian had to remind him that they weren't at all, though he would not be adverse to them being a size smaller.

All the Mandalorian knew was that the Jedi had been raised as an orphan. He could relate to that. After seeing the demise of his own family through the cracks of a cellar door, Deathwatch had taken him in and raised him as their own. Without Deathwatch and the pain and trauma of his parents' deaths, Din Djarin would have been a different man. If it weren't for Din's tragedies, he would never have saved Grogu from the cruel hands of Imperials or so firmly understood the pain the youngling had suffered.

Just as Din understood Grogu's pain, Luke seemed to understand both of theirs. Luke was the one who spent days at a time meditating with Grogu. Reminding the small child that he wasn't alone, nor was he the only one struggling with fear, pain, and _darkness_. All Din could do is watch and flick his eyes between his son and his husband. Of course, he appreciated how much Luke could sympathise with Grogu. Yet, it was a reminder of how much time Luke put into caring for his friends and his family and yet kept the Pandora's Box of his own trauma tightly shut. It was as if by not acknowledging it, it would simply go away. If the Jedi kept himself busy, it could be ignored. It might even just magically disappear.

Luke had not ped working for days. Tweaking his X-Wing, salvaging droid parts and scrap metal that better belonged in the trash, and making amendments to R2D2. He hadn't slept or washed himself in weeks. Mealtimes were becoming more mechanical and distant every day. Din wanted to ask Luke what was wrong; seeing him like this was upsetting. But also, Din knew not to push it. He wanted Luke to be comfortable around him. He knew from experience that he would get nowhere if he forced him to talk. Luke would withdraw into himself or erupt in a way that was otherwise out of character. For that reason, Din chose to leave him alone and to give him the space he needed.

That was until he really saw what Luke was doing to himself. He had heard the yells of frustration, seen the marks where Luke had kicked the Garage wall. Din had seen him struggle with turning a simple key to Grogu's new toybox and had spent the first five minutes of every morning brushing blonde hairs from the bedsheets. Yet, he had been confident that he just needed space, but Luke was looking increasingly gaunt from overwork and exhaustion.

"It's not even five in the morning," Din tugged at Luke's pyjama shirt, "You're making yourself _sick._ "

Luke jerked himself away.

"I'm fine." the Jedi snapped back.

Din rose to meet him. He switched the lamp on and then moved a comforting hand to his shoulder, only for Luke to pull away.

"You're _not_ fine." Din's hand hovered in midair. Luke took a step back, blinking at the hand in horror. His eyes widened, his chest going up and down in a shaky rhythm. He looked like he wanted to make himself as small as possible but he was unable to muster the energy to react.

"You're safe," Din quickly lowered his hand. There was an awkward silence as Luke tried to pull himself back together. Din waited for Luke to calm and then: "but you're shaking. Are you tired?"

Luke snorted. Was he tired? He was _exhausted_.

"I've been through worse," Luke muttered, still pulling himself together. He found himself tripping over his own words. He tried to turn his back to his husband, but Din gently held his shoulder. "I need to work; I can't rest until I'm done with all of this work." Luke looked to nothing in particular, but his words were forceful and sharp. They were even _desperate_.

"Nobody needs to work at," Din squinted at the clock, "four thirty-eight in the morning."

Luke held back a small laugh. He remembered how Han had told him the same thing ten years ago.

Din was just relieved to see Luke smile, even if it was small.

"Come back to bed; you look ill."

"I feel fine," Luke could now feel his anger rising. He paused and took a brief moment to collect himself again. Quieter, he then said: "I'm just sorry I woke you."

"Don't apologise. It's okay."

"It's not!" Luke protested. Louder now his words leapt out of his mouth at a rate he couldn't control. "I need to work, Din, and you won't let me."

"Because you're _killing_ yourself, Luke. You're _exhausted_."

The Jedi defeated, Din ushered him back onto the bed. As soon as he felt the soft mattress, Luke's head flopped into his hands.

"It's alright," Din whispered. Sitting close to Luke he combed through his hair, ping only to twirl a golden lock through his own weather-worn fingers. "You can talk to me. Whatever is bothering you, we can talk about it."

"Nothing is bothering me." Luke lied through gritted teeth. His voice was watery now, and his face reddened with tears. He attempted to hide them behind his hands, but it didn't fool Din.

"You're _crying_."

"I'm being _stupid._ "

"Crying isn't _stupid_ , Luke."

Luke didn't have the strength to argue back. Instead, he simply leaned in closer to Din. His breathing was unsteady. Din rubbed his back.

"I won't leave you," Din said, "but this needs to stop."

"I need to work."

"You _need_ to _rest_."

The Jedi let out a pained wince. The Mandalorian continued to hold him.

"Please rest," Din leaned over to fetch a blanket to wrap around Luke's shoulders. Luke felt Din's hand playing again with his hair and the Mandalorian's steady breathing as he was tried to calm Luke and set the moment's pace.

"Do you still love me?" The Jedi asked after half an hour of silence had passed.

"I love you." After three years, Din was used to this routine.

"Thank you." Luke finally looked at him; glassy blue eyes met Din's brown. The Mandalorian wiped the Jedi's tears away with his thumb.

"I'm sorry." the Jedi said.

Din rose to his feet and pecked Luke a kiss on his cheek. For a moment, Din watched as Luke pulled his knees up to meet his chin and hugged his legs. Sometimes, he looked more like a scared child than a Jedi Knight. Din quietly left the room. When he returned, the Mandalorian held a simple glass of water.

"Put it away," Luke grimaced at the sight of it. Just looking at it was making him feel ill. "I'm not drinking it."

"Not even a sip?" Din pleaded, "for me?"

Luke didn't have the strength to fight anyone right now, but just looking at it made him feel like throwing up the little he had in his system. He shook his head.

"I don't want to do this now." the Jedi pleaded.

Din hesitated, but seeing Luke's slumped shoulders and trembling hands was enough to comply. He set the glass on a shelf where Luke couldn't see.

"I didn't think. Now it's my turn to apologise." Din sat beside Luke, but when he went to wipe Luke's face gently, Luke moved his head away. He couldn't do this right now. He just wanted to work.

Din stood up. "At least have a shower? You'll feel better." He gestured in the direction of the washroom.

Luke was horrified.

"You don't understand. I _can't_. I haven't worked hard enough!" Luke snapped. He breathed heavily as if he had run the Chandrilian marathon. He hadn't. He was staring up at the love of his life. Din was comforting him, and Luke felt _useless_.

"What?" Din asked.

"I said," Luke swallowed a lump in his throat, "I can't shower until I've finished."

"You're talking _nonsense._ "

"Nonsense?" Luke found the energy to yell. Anger stained his face and fuelled him as his desperate hands pulled at the bedsheets. His shaky, raspy breaths had quickened into sharp exhales. " _Nonsense_?"

Din sat down again, this time on a nearby chair.

"I spent most of my life with water being such a precious _luxury_ that I nearly died of dehydration when I was seven." Luke confided, "and the thought of _wasting_ it…" Luke shuddered. It didn't bear thinking about.

"I forgot, Luke." Din was calm as he spoke, "I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories."

"It's alright." Luke tapped the side of his knee to ground himself. "I know I've been acting strange lately," he swallowed, "I just had a nightmare last weekend."

"A nightmare?"

Luke nodded.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Feeling a creeping apprehension, Luke dropped his head. "I suppose I should," He said quietly.

"Only if you're ready, Luke."

Luke looked to Din. He always felt safe with him, but he would never be ready. That being said he owed it to Din to tell him something. Another "sorry" pushed itself out of Luke's tightening throat, but this one was different. The others had been rooted in an instinct bore into him by anxiety and fear. It was as if Din was a bomb that could go off at any minute, even though the logical part of Luke's brain knew that he would never lash out at him. This "sorry" was not like those before it. It was more exact and specific.

"Luke," Din said, "I know how it feels. I know how odd it is to you to be cared for and having people checking on you. I spent my entire life not having anyone by my side. I know how unreal it feels. Sometimes you just have trouble adjusting to it."

"I've not told you anything," Luke anxiously looked to his side. He kept his hands as busy as possible. He scratched his arms and rubbed his eyes so hard he saw dark spots. Sometimes he smacked his head in an aggressive attempt to ground himself, but none of it worked.

"It's been over ten years. I've been through so much since. I should be over it."

"It's never that easy."

Luke's own mind tore itself apart. He felt both as if he wanted to pour all of the words to try and make Din's uncomfortable curiosity and worry, and begging himself to shut up. He struggled against a creeping feeling of wrongness and ingratitude that pressed down on him and was beginning to make his mouth feel drier than usual. Which, given how much he neglected his own hydration, was saying something. _I can't tell him everything_ , Luke thought. It was already difficult to think about unintentionally. He wasn't ready to tell Din everything, and so he wouldn't.

"It's my fault." Luke was awkward and uneasy and _terrified_. "It's no one but me. It's been so long, and yet I find myself stuck in the past because of a stupid _nightmare_. There are so many things to look forward to. With you, with Grogu, with Han and Leia. Sith, even Lando." Luke grimaced as he spoke, "I keep looking back, and I can't see what's in front of me. There's plenty to be grateful for. Plenty, I know, but I'm weak, Din. Weaker than a kicked bantha cub."

"What are you on about, Luke? You're _not_ weak."

"I am, I am," Luke swore he wouldn't cry over it. That he'd left those long, dark nights of crying in the past. Too tired and dizzy to sit up and too sore and achy to sleep. Working 19-hour-days from the age of six and doing everything how it should be done. Being constantly punished for something he didn't understand, but told it was for his own good no matter how much it hurt. Crying because his life was a big question mark, and he was so thirsty, and he felt so lonely. He only had one friend, and not even his parents had wanted him, and everything had just been _so hard._ He'd swore he had left it in the past all those years ago.

He was wrong.

Luke pushed tears away with his sleeve.

Din waited, smartly, until some calm and quiet returned and asked, "Why are you working yourself to death, Luke? You don't need to work hard for simple things like showers or-"

The Mandalorian saw the haunted look behind the Jedi's eyes. He took a step back, and he promptly shut up. Something may have clicked inside him, or maybe it was just the look in Luke's eye that told him he was about to do something brave.

"Din," It wasn't a retort. Luke was done arguing with him. He just needed Din to listen before he lost his courage to tell him. "Listen."

Luke examined his hand. He looked at the ceiling, the window with the curtains drawn, his own metal hand as he exercised the wiring inside. He looked at anything but Din Djarin in an attempt to make the conversation feel less raw, and painful, and _real_. Slowly, he summoned the strength to begin.

"When I was a kid, I worked on my Uncle's farm from the age of 6, and it was hard work." Luke twiddled his thumbs. His breathing came in short, panicked gasps, and his hands were furiously shaking. "I had to earn everything, _everything_ , and if I misbehaved, and usually it was just an accident but I would still get-" Luke shook his head. He wouldn't think about that today.

"He just wanted to keep me in line. I don't know. He was scared and he thought he could punish the force out of me. He hoped enough discipline would eventually make me _normal._ For my own good, and my own safety, I guess. It made him really mad if I did something he didn't understand, not like I understood it either, and more often than not he could be-" Luke's voice trailed off. _Violent,_ he thought, but he didn't say it. He couldn't make himself talk about it. Talking about it would make it more _real,_ and he couldn't spiral anymore than he already had. Still, he owed it to Din to tell him _something_.

"If he thought I wasn't working hard enough, I wouldn't be allowed to shower. I knew better than to argue with him. Real, proper showers are a basic need to you, but to me, they were a luxury. I had to wash the dirt off, I'd been working to the bone since the suns came up, but he made me stay uncomfortable to remind me that I had to be enough and behave well to earn a shower. That I had to be grateful, or I'd get nothing."

Luke furiously scratched his arms and shifted around, trying to make himself shrink into the headboard. Yet, the silence was off because he felt safe, and so whilst he wouldn't tell Din everything, he at least allowed himself to unravel a little more.

"My skin would come out in red patches. I knew not to itch them, but it hurt so much, and the urge to scratch just got worse and worse. I would lay on my bed, crying, wondering how my parents could've just left me here to rot. I was thirsty, I felt worthless. Helpless and forgotten about. I wasn't allowed to ask any awkward questions, which just made everything worse, really. It helped to change into another outfit, but I didn't have much, so I wore the same thing until it was sweat-soaked and dirty. Everything I owned was dirty. It didn't seem to matter much."

Luke couldn't bring himself to continue, and so he just sat there. He felt blank, exposed, and vulnerable in a way he hadn't since he was a young boy. He couldn't even look at Din. It was too embarrassing. He rarely talked about his past with anyone, but Din had his own problems growing up. He was also the love of his life. Talking to him made him feel a little less broken, he guessed, and so he braved a glance to him. The Mandalorian's steely brown eyes were now darkened with sadness and an anger the Jedi hadn't sensed in a long time.

"I don't like to talk about it." Luke gulped the hard lump that had formed in his throat.

"Fuck." It was all the Mandalorian could muster. "That fucking sucks, Luke." Din took a second to carefully measure his words. "I can't fix you, Luke, or anything that's happened to you, but I know what it's like to struggle. I don't want you to go through this alone."

He watched as Luke tugged at the corners of the blanket, picking up corners and twisting them to distract himself from the gravity of his own thoughts. Mumbling a quick "thank-you" the Jedi nodded, but he still didn't look to Din.

The Mandalorian shuffled close enough to put a hand on Luke's knee. He lovingly squeezed it. "You didn't deserve it then, and you shouldn't put yourself through it now."

Grumpily moving his leg away from Din, Luke shrugged his shoulders. He still felt like he'd deserved it, and he supposed he always would. Still, he could sense how much Din cared for him, and Luke appreciated that more than he could express. Even if, as Din correctly assessed, he wasn't quite used to it.

"What I mean is," Din said, "you can take all of the showers you want, drink all of the water you want, it's not wasted, and nobody is going to hurt you here. Not if you mess up, or if you give yourself a break now and again."

 _I wish it was that easy_ , Luke thought to himself, but he gave Din another nod.

"Alright, Luke." Din got himself to his feet and then pulled Luke up to a stand. He lent over and gave Luke a quick kiss on his forehead. Affection still felt alien to Din, just as it did for Luke, but they stumbled through it together. Then Din said: "Let's get you washed."

The Mandalorian made his way to the washroom. The sun had now risen, and it gave their room a warm glow.

"I'm putting the shower on," Din called from the en-suite; a tired Luke trailed behind him.

"If it's too much, I can get the washcloth-"

Luke waved the suggestion away with a hand. He was still rubbing his eyes when he broke into a mischievous smile and said, "No, I stink, and you're right, it'll help, I guess." Knowing Luke's disdain for water being _too_ hot, Din nodded and twisted the valves until the water was tepid.

With Luke not wanting to waste the precious water, it wasn't long until Luke got in and Din left to let Luke have some time to himself.

As the water drops hit his face, Luke felt his body finally decompress. It had always been such a privilege to have a proper shower, and was still funny to him to be able to have one whenever he wanted. That's what Din had to remind him sometimes.

Even after almost three years of being together, Luke had never expected his lover to be so patient with him. He knew he was odd, and strange, and had an assortment of weird quirks that people would never quite understand. He'd found the light in Darth Vader, for sith's sake.

Luke let the water soak his hair. For once, he found himself enjoying the sensation instead of trying to find the quickest and most efficient way to wash his hair. However, he couldn't stop thinking about how different things used to be, and if his Uncle had seen him laying around in his bed feeling sorry for himself, he wouldn't have taken kindly to it. He'd certainly have complained about Luke's laziness and his ingratitude. Of course, he would always be grateful that he wasn't just left on the streets (back when he thought that was what had happened), that he had a roof over his head, and had been taught a trade.

The Jedi sighed and shook his head. The past was the past, and he had so many amazing people with him. The Mandalorian had covered his wounds just as the Jedi had covered his, and sure, Luke would still have moments where he struggled, but so would Din, and Leia, and Han.

Not wanting to spend too long in the shower, Luke quickly got out. He always felt guilty if he stayed too long, and he had certainly stayed in the shower longer than usual. Part of him was gravitating towards the work he was in the middle of doing. His tools would still be at his workbench, and he wasn't too sure he had screwed the lid on the oil tight enough. As he stepped out, though, he realised that Din had hurried in and laid out some fresh pyjamas for Luke. He knew that if Din had wanted him to do anything other than rest, he would've laid out something more casual. Besides, Din was right, Luke was making himself sick. He needed rest, and work could wait until later.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Comments and kudos are, of course, appreciated.


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